


Generation T

by onthedriftinthetardis (on_the_drift)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack-ish, Crack-y?, F/M, Fluff, Humor, not to be taken too seriously in any event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12269817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/on_the_drift/pseuds/onthedriftinthetardis
Summary: Tentoo and Rose have managed to grow their TARDIS to adulthood - almost.





	Generation T

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to wonderful beta readers chiaroscuroverse and mountaingirlheidi for their feedback! As usual, I've futzed with the text afterwards, so any mistakes of grammar, spelling, or judgement are all mine.

When Rose Tyler came home from Torchwood 3 and found the Doctor in their garage, standing in front of their adolescent TARDIS and repeatedly snapping his fingers in an increasingly frenzied manner, her first thought was not that her lover had taken leave of his senses, but that once again, dinner was going to be late. 

“What are you doing?” 

The Doctor scrubbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“I couldn't find my key! With my first TARDIS, when I'd snap my fingers and think “open sesame,” she'd throw open her doors. But I’ve been doing the same thing for twenty minutes now, and she won't do it. I even tried other kinds of seeds, in case she doesn't like sesame for some reason.” 

At this, Rose furrowed her brow, having temporarily lost the plot. 

“You know,“ he continued, “open poppy,” or “open sunflower.” But nothing worked. She won't even unlock the door!” 

“Well, I don't blame her. I wouldn't open up if you snapped your fingers at me, either.”

Rose approached the TARDIS slowly and placed her hand palm down on the door, thinking sympathetic thoughts. 

“Don't mind him, sweetheart,” she whispered. “He can be an absolute git, but his heart is in the right place, and he really does love you.“ 

There was a moment of silence, then a quiet click under Rose's palm as the TARDIS unlocked her door. 

A sound of muffled affront came from behind her. 

Rose opened the door and gestured from the Doctor to the open doorway with a flourish. 

“There you are! She would have let you in 20 minutes ago if you hadn't treated her like a trained seal.”

“But… but it wasn't like that!” The Doctor protested weakly as he followed Rose to the kitchen.

* * *

At two years, two months, and five days old, the TARDIS, finally able to travel through time, took them on a short jaunt to New Year's Eve, 2015. She parked across the Thames from the London Eye, and the Doctor and Rose got out and ran hand in hand across the Victoria Embankment. 

They squeezed through the crowd, and the Doctor leaned against the side of the RAF memorial and pulled Rose against his chest, wrapping her in his arms. She tilted her head up for a kiss, which the Doctor happily supplied, and they lost themselves in each other until they heard the crowd start to count down. They looked up just as the first volley of fireworks began, launching from the top of the London Eye. Rose snuggled into the Doctor's embrace, and they watched the show, oohing and aahing along with the rest of the revelers. Afterwards, they made their way back to the TARDIS and then home to 2013. They parked the time ship in the garage before climbing the stairs to their bedroom. 

***

At two years, two months, and six days old, the TARDIS went missing. Frantically, the Doctor searched the rest of the house and yard, then made a panicked phone call to Rose, who was at work. Rose alerted her staff, then phoned her father in London, and Torchwood threw all of its available resources into searching for the blue police box, to no avail. The Doctor scoured the neighborhood, looking for clues, and found nothing, then ran home in case whoever had stolen the TARDIS had had a change of heart and returned her. 

Rose hurried home and found the Doctor pacing the garage floor. He looked up as she parked her car in the driveway, and Rose's heart sank at how lost he looked. She'd hoped perhaps the TARDIS had been found during her commute. She jumped out of her car and ran to him, and he met her halfway. 

“It's going to be all right,” Rose said as they embraced. “We'll find her.”

“I know. She's okay, I can feel her. But the connection is so weak, and I don't understand why.”

Rose hugged him harder. 

They went in the house, and Rose made tea, and toast with butter and marmalade. They stood together in the kitchen while they ate, Rose filling him in on Torchwood’s efforts, and he telling her the areas he'd covered close to home. The Doctor spent the rest of the night in his basement workshop, building a device to detect discrete concentrations of Artron energy to help them track down the missing ship. Rose kept him company, and more than once called everyone she knew at Torchwood to pester them about any progress on the search. There wasn't any. 

Finally, past 3am, exhausted and a bit dejected, Rose went up to bed. She knew better than to try to convince the Doctor to go with her. 

She awoke suddenly in the morning light, and listened. The best sound in the universe came to her ears — the sound of the TARDIS materializing. She ran downstairs, and out to the garage, where she found the TARDIS door open, and the Doctor, already inside the control room. He was shouting. 

“Where have you been? Rose and I have been worried sick!” The Doctor spotted Rose and whirled in her direction. “Haven't we, Rose? Tell her!”

There was an apologetic hum from the console, followed by a series of pulses from the time rotor. Rose concentrated on her link to the young TARDIS, and caught something about wanting to explore, and Neptune, before the connection was overwhelmed by outrage from the Doctor. 

“You did what? You went WHERE?!”

“Doctor, could you please stop shouting?”

“Did you hear what she said? Neptune!” he said at a slightly lower volume, but no less outraged. He turned back to the console. 

“We haven't even been off planet yet, and you travel 2.7 billion miles on your own?! What were you thinking!”

The sound that filled the control room was subdued. 

“You thought it looked pretty?” the Doctor said incredulously. 

Rose covered her mouth with her hand to try to stop her smile from showing as the Doctor turned his head to look at her, eyebrow raised. 

“I'm sorry, but it is kind of adorable. She's definitely our TARDIS.”

At that, the time rotor pulsed twice in quick succession, making a noise Rose could only characterize as an audible smirk. 

“That's it, you're grounded!” the Doctor said firmly, jabbing his forefinger at the console. “No more excursions on your own!”

“Doctor — she's said she's sorry for worrying us. And I'm sure she won't do it again.”

“But why did she have to torment us like this, staying out all night! It's not like she's not a _time machine_!” The Doctor said, trying and mostly failing not to shout. 

The time rotor pulsed several times mournfully. The Doctor's jaw slackened, then snapped shut with a click. 

“Ha! I take it back!” Rose laughed. “She's yours. Only your TARDIS would try to go to Scotland, wind up on the far side of Neptune, and come home 12 hours late!”

* * *

That summer, the Doctor moved the TARDIS to the garden so she could enjoy the nice weather. One Sunday morning in June, he went outside to work on the dimensional stabilizers — and the police box was gone. 

“Rose!” the Doctor yelled, running back towards the house, fishing his mobile out of his pocket. “Rose, the TARDIS is gone again!”

Rose was upstairs, finishing up the full English breakfast-in-bed the Doctor had cooked for her following a night of rather energetic amorous activities. She put the breakfast tray aside and jumped out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown, and opened the window overlooking the garden. 

“What happened?” she called down. 

“She's taken off again! Who knows when or where she is this time. And I never did finish building the Artron detector. Bollocks!”

“I can't believe she's gone off on her own again, not after how upset we were with her last time,” Rose frowned. “Doctor, I wonder if she's really been stolen this time,” she fretted. 

The Doctor's eyes widened in horror. Before Rose could say another word, he'd dialed the police. 

“Hello! I need to report a stolen… um… police box.” 

“Is this a joke, sir?”

“Doctor!” Rose shouted, and when he looked up, she pointed out the new, dark blue garden shed on the opposite side of the yard. 

“Er… Yes, yes, it is. Happy April Fool's Day!”

“It's June.”

“Right. Well spotted!” The Doctor hung up before the call could be traced. 

Rose hurried downstairs, and she and the Doctor walked over to the shed. They stood outside and looked at the TARDIS inquiringly. 

“Why did you want to disguise yourself as a garden shed, eh?” said the Doctor, puzzled. 

“Doctor, you know how you said your old TARDIS was always a police box because her Chameleon circuit was broken?”

He nodded, and she continued, “Well, ours has a working one, so maybe she's just … you know, stretching her wings a bit.”

“What, you mean she's changing to other shapes just because she can? What's wrong with a police box?”

They could both feel the annoyance radiating off the TARDIS. 

“Nothing! But you know, when you're young, sometimes you like to try different things out, that's all,” said Rose, trying to keep the peace. “And you said it yourself, she is basically a teenager.”

“I suppose,” the Doctor allowed. “Well, I hope she settles down soon. Anyway, a police box always worked for me, for hundreds of years, you know,” he said pointedly. 

There was a sudden grinding noise as the garden shed faded away, only to be replaced by an outsized Zimmer frame. For a long moment, the Doctor stared at the TARDIS slack-jawed, while Rose bit her lip trying not to laugh. 

“What! Is that a crack about my age?”

The aluminum frame pulsed out of existence, and a gray police box appeared in its place, the light on top flashing and making a “dinging” noise. 

“Why, of all the bloody cheek! You want your Chameleon circuit washed out with isopropanol, young lady!” 

“Come on, old man,” Rose said, firmly leading the Doctor away by the arm, “and I'll tell you a story about my Goth phase that'll probably give you apoplexy.”


End file.
